


baby i've got a lot of love to give

by optimusfine



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, domestic sex, femmEXO, it's cute okay just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/optimusfine/pseuds/optimusfine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"why," yixiao starts, turning around to see the curve of minseon's ass as she rummages in the fridge, "do you always scare me like that?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	baby i've got a lot of love to give

"2 cups of flour... 1 cup of sugar... a pinch of salt..."

yixiao is mumbling to herself as she works, combining the dry ingredients with one hand while she holds the bowl against her chest with the other. egg coated paper towels are dripping in the trash can, chocolate chips are scattered across the counter, and there's a smear of brown sugar and butter across yixiao's cheekbones.

this is what minseon walks into as she hangs her keys up and kicks her shoes to the side, untucking her shirt from her skirt and peeling her stockings off.

"don't you ever get tired of baking?" is the first thing she says, and yixiao jumps nearly a foot, flour splashing out of the sides of the bowl and onto the floor.

"why," yixiao starts, turning around to see the curve of minseon's ass as she rummages in the fridge, "do you always scare me like that?"

she sets the bowl on the counter and catches minseon right as the older woman laughs and pulls out of the fridge empty handed, bringing nothing but a blast of cold air with her. yixiao's arms find minseon's waist just as her lips find minseon's, and the hands on the back of her neck make her smile.

"because it's fun," minseon says matter of factly, laughing again when yixiao almost pouts at her. the timer goes off with a loud 'ding!' and yixiao slips out of minseon's hold, digging through the drawers near the stove for her cat printed pot holders.

the kitchen is hotter than usual from the oven and the summer air blowing through the open windows, floral curtains swaying in the breeze, is still and there's a bead of sweat dripping down the back of yixiao's neck, dark, wispy hair sticking around the tiny metal balls above the knot of her spine. minseon watches from her place at the counter as more pieces of hair fall out of yixiao's loose bun, ignoring the sudden urge she has to run her hands through the black strands and feel their softness against her fingers.

(it's a feeling she knows well, after so long; yixiao is naturally touchy and while minseon is not, ten years of friendship and nearly a year of dating means that minseon knows the feel of yixiao's body almost as well as she knows her own.)

"minseon."

minseon comes back from her mental wanderings to find a pumpkin chocolate chip muffin pressed against her lips, yixiao's fingertips almost as warm as the freshly baked good against her skin.

"say ah," yixiao sing songs, body closer than she needs to be, and minseon relents with a sigh, smelling the cinnamon well before it hits her tongue.

yixiao also tastes like cinnamon, minseon finds out, when 15 minutes later she's pressing the younger woman into the couch with her mouth sucking at yixiao's bottom lip, tongue piercing clinking against yixiao’s teeth and her fingers dancing over the curves of yixiao's ribs and down her hips.

arching away from minseon’s touch, yixiao is laughing into minseon’s mouth, hands pushing at her shoulders even as her leg hooks around the back of minseon’s knee and tugs her closer.

“s-stop,” she giggles, body strung tight and taunt against minseon’s, fingers clenched in the fabric of minseon’s silk work shirt. where minseon is still fully dressed, shirt buttoned to the highest button, the zipper on yixiao’s shorts is tugged down and she wasn’t wearing a bra to begin with, her nipples pebbled against the cold air of the living room through her thin shirt.

minseon grins, fingers sliding down yixiao’s body and then up under the hem of her shorts, hot skin on hot skin where yixiao’s thigh meets the curve of her hip. yixiao is still laughing softly even as her eyelids flutter, hands following the line of minseon’s neck, tangling in her hair to pull the hair elastic out. minseon’s hair tumbles down her shoulders, along her back, and yixiao spits some out when it lands in her mouth and on her face.

“you need a haircut,” yixiao says, fingers mindlessly stroking minseon’s neck, and she sputters when minseon shakes more hair down into her face. her eyes narrow, and in a flurry of movement that includes yixiao’s shorts getting tangled around her knees and an elbow to minseon’s boobs, minseon finds herself pinned, yixiao’s knees on either side of her hips.

it’s yixiao that grins this time, leaning in close enough to breathe against minseon’s lips as she murmurs, “gotcha,” with a flash of slightly crooked teeth, and minseon is momentarily shocked by the warmth that floods her. it’s a sudden realization, that this woman, this perfect, beautiful, amazing woman is all hers, that those years of yearning and wanting and listening to yixiao gush about “the cutest boy in my chemistry class, minseon, you wouldn’t even believe it!” while her heart slowly sinks in her chest were all worth it, because they led to this moment.

“hey,” and minseon comes back to herself, again, to find yixiao staring at her with a raised eyebrow, shirt pulled over her head and fully off, tossed on the floor next to the couch.

“am I going to have to do this all by myself, or what?”

minseon’s eyes glimmer, hands sliding ever so slowly down to the v of yixiao’s legs, and for a second, yixiao wonders if she’s made a terrible mistake.

\--

as it turns out, yixiao is much smarter than she gives herself credit for.

“fuck, fuck, minseon, fucking shit,” and it’s so satisfying to hear those words coming from yixiao’s pretty mouth, minseon thinks as she sucks at yixiao’s clit, hard enough that yixiao nearly screams, hands tightening in the bed sheets and knees pressed hard to the side of minseon’s head.

yixiao is always so soft and sweet, all warm hugs and butterfly kisses – the woman bakes for a living, like, come on – except when minseon has her like this, spread on their 1000 count sheets, two fingers deep in yixiao’s pussy as yixiao screams profanities and praises her in the same breath.

minseon leaves yixiao’s clit as she adds another finger, drags her mouth up and down the inside of yixiao’s inner thigh and down, past where yixiao is soaked and dripping, down and down.

the first touch of minseon’s tongue on her rim is enough to have yixiao almost gasping, head tossing back and forth and thighs quivering with the tension of not thrusting up and smothering minseon.

(as perfect a way as that would be to go, minseon is only 26, and she can’t exactly propose to yixiao – or eat her out almost every night – if she was dead. not that yixiao knows about the proposal or anything yet; minseon has the ring tucked away in the furthest corner of the closet, behind the middle school band t-shirts that don’t fit her anymore but that she refuses to get rid of.)

“you’re so hot,” minseon murmurs, dragging her tongue up and through her fingers to lick into yixiao, nose pressed against her pubic bone. yixiao even smells sweet, like the cookies she’s so fond of, and minseon can feel the wetness against her chin and mouth as she drags her tongue through yixiao’s folds, twisting and spreading yixiao open, her other hand creeping down her own body to press her palm hard against her own clit through her panties. the heat shoots through her and she moans against yixiao, who cups the back of minseon’s head and presses her face even tighter against yixiao.

it’s rare for yixiao to take charge, and minseon feels her fingers moving faster against herself as she pumps her fingers faster, feeling yixiao get even wetter. yixiao’s heels are grinding into minseon’s back, hard enough that minseon’s fair skin will probably bruise come morning, and the thought of yixiao’s marks on her makes minseon grin, dragging her tongue faster over yixiao’s clit.

yixiao is tugging on minseon’s hair, pulling her up and up until yixiao can kiss her with a gasping, “fuck, I love you,” as every muscle in her body tenses, and it’s the very sight of yixiao coming undone more than her own touch that has minseon burying her face in yixiao’s neck as she comes, white flashing across her vision as her blood roars in her ears.

hands on her skin brings minseon down to earth again, yixiao’s fingers tracing aimless patterns against her back and over the bumps in her spine, chinese characters that minseon vaguely recognizes from her college classes and what yixiao has taught her over the years.

suddenly, there’s boobs in her face, yixiao leaning across her to grab the blanket they kicked on the ground, and minseon leans and sucks the still pebbled nub into her mouth, dragging her tongue purposefully across it so that the piercing catches, just to hear the squeak yixiao lets out and the way her body shivers, still sensitive.

yixiao grabs the blanket and rolls away, nearly off the side of the bed, and minseon lunges forward to grab her around the waist, tucking her head into the curve of yixiao’s neck as she spoons the younger woman and pulls her back onto the bed.

it’s there, the smell of cinnamon and yixiao tickling her nose, that minseon slips away and into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
